


Hopeless Romantic

by insominia



Series: Hopeless Romantic [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Dating, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5198591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something about Boone and the courier's relationship that Veronica can't put her finger on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hopeless Romantic

After peeling, there seemed to be hardly any carrots left. Veronica stared at the uninspired pile, dejected, and sighed, "well, maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic."

Across the table, Cass didn't seem to be having much luck with the fresh potatoes, especially as 'fresh' seemed to be a bit of a stretch. "Screw that,” she replied, in her usual brusque tone, “who has time for romance?"

Veronica opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again when the courier stepped into the kitchen. Six mumbled a greeting and reached for a coffee cup, behind her Boone followed, mostly by coincidence, grabbed a pear from the fridge and left again, without a word to the gathering or even a nod in their direction. Six looked at the grimy cup, sighed and grabbing a nuka cola instead, followed Boone out.

"See?!" Veronica insisted, "shouldn't they be holding hands or something? Talking? You think they'd be talking!"

"Boone never talks."

"You know what I mean," Veronica said, exasperated.

Cass rolled the peeled potatoes around the bowl, "this is turning into a depressing roast."

"Cass!"

"Don't you think you're overthinking this? Maybe they save it for the bedroom, not everyone is into all that flowers and breakfast in bed shit. Some of us like a good hard seeing to and can the romance. What meat have we got to go with this? Better not be Lakelurk _again_.”

"Brahmin in the fridge," Veronica mumbled, staring at the doorway, completely unconvinced.

She remained unconvinced for the next three months of Boone and the courier's apparent "relationship". Not once did she see them do anything out of the ordinary for them. The sniper accompanied her every time the courier went up against the Legion, but then he always had. They didn't speak any more than usual, didn't hold hands, kiss, laugh, nothing. Boone didn't even give up his bed, when he actually bothered to sleep, something he avoided for the most part. “What, we can't be discreet?” Six had argued when Cass had teased her about it once, laughing that she could put her in touch with a few NCR guys if Boone wasn't up to much in that department. Discretion also apparently explained why no one ever saw the two of them doing anything remotely 'coupley', as Veronica maintained. Why she cared that she had never seen them so much as kiss the other's cheek, she couldn't say. But something about the way they were together irked her, or maybe she really was just a hopeless romantic. She'd been in love before and remembered willing away the agonising minutes that they were apart, her face beaming despite herself when they were reunited. Six barely noticed when Boone went out, sometimes showing no awareness that he had gone at all, while Boone never looked up when she entered a room.

That said, he was always taking her out. Three, four times a week his head would appear in the doorway and he'd ask a hopeful, "night out?" Six never said no, and Boone always looked like Christmas had come early, or at least looked a little less stern, before disappearing into the bathroom to scourge himself with military precision. But while Boone might leave flushed pink from his efforts and smelling better than fresh broc flowers, at best Six _might_ put on clean clothes. And if Boone ever seemed impatient to leave, she didn't notice.

Veronica did. Veronica noticed everything.

"Are you still on about that shit?" Cass groaned, after Veronica pointed out to her, _again,_ that Six didn't seem that into Boone. Not that Boone seemed all that into her, but Boone didn't seem all that into anything. The most emotion he ever showed was a grunt of approval after killing legionaries.

"I'm just saying it's weird!" Veronica insisted, just as the courier's head popped around the door frame into the kitchen.

"Boone and I are heading out, probably won't be back tonight...so..." she trailed off awkwardly, "don't burn the place down, huh?"

"One time," Cass muttered as the courier retreated, "we did that one time!" Veronica rose with the sound of the elevator, Cass was already unscrewing a bottle of whisky, settling in for the night, “Oh you are _not_ going to follow them?!" Veronica was already in the hallway, "Bad idea girl!"

Boone and Six hadn't made it far from the Lucky 38 when Veronica fell into discreet step behind them, easily hidden by the crowds that thronged the Strip by night.

Six was saying something, not unkindly, that Veronica could just about make out over the blaring tones of Dean Martin, "and you don't think you're overthinking this?"

Veronica could practically hear Boone's eyes rolling, "probably."

"No one will care you know."

"You saying Cass won't tease us every damned day?"

Six thought for a moment but conceded the point, "she'd get bored eventually though."

Boone snorted, "eventually." He paused, and touched her arm, bringing them almost to a stop, "you saying you don't want to do this anymore?"

A veritable gang of NCR troopers piled out of the monorail station, momentarily hiding Veronica from view, so she didn't see the courier's look of alarm as she turned to him, or hear her hasty, "Oh fuck, no! That's not what I'm saying at all. I just...I just feel bad for you is all..."

"Don't," Boone said, turning a smile on her that could have powered the strip, "Really, don't feel bad for me."

The troopers dispersed, Veronica regained sight of them just in time to be taken aback by the intensity of Boone's smile and see the courier give him an affectionate embrace. Most of the troopers were heading for a night in Gommorrah while the courier and Boone strolled towards the more upmarket fare of the Ultra Luxe. With no one to shield her Veronica slipped back, watching from a distance, out of ear shot.

"Always said Carla was the only woman for me...never expected this," Boone said at length.

The courier slipped her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze, "you don't have to explain yourself. It's weird, I get it. You don't want anyone knowing, I get that too. Besides I figure I owe you for not telling anyone about...you know...the robot."

Boone chuckled and the two resumed their short walk, the courier's hand still firmly in his. Veronica beamed, maybe it was discretion after all. It gave her a warm glow to see two of her closest friends so happy and only a hint of sadness that usually surfaced within her when confronted with romance, a romance that reminded her of what she had once had. Boone said something into the courier's ear and her laugh rang out across the Strip. Veronica smiled as they disappeared into the Ultra Luxe, on the way back she picked up another bottle of whisky. No doubt Cass would want to celebrate Veronica's willingness to finally stop talking about Boone and Six.

Had she followed them into the Ultra Luxe she would have been surprised to see Boone drop the courier off at one of the cheaper rooms. He looked a little uncomfortable to be leaving her there, "s'all I could afford," he mumbled, mashing the carpet with his boot.

Six nudged him, playfully, "it's fine, besides," she pointed to a barely visible scar at the side of her head, "I'm feeling lucky."

He smirked and made to move on, pausing for a moment, agonising over her comfort, “you gonna be ok?" he asked, anxiously.

"No Boone, I'm going to be bored out of my mind in the most luxurious casino on the Strip, now get out of here," she tapped his arm lightly and sauntered into the room, kicking the door shut with a practised kick. Boone headed on up the hallway towards the courier's private suite. She had one in every casino, a testament to her "luck". A quick glance around confirmed he hadn't been followed, and though he knocked the door he didn't wait for an answer before stepping in. The smell of prime steak hit him first, two fresh meals, still steaming, lay on the table, complete with a bottle of wine, a beer for Boone, naturally, and fresh broc flowers. Arcade was very much the romantic type and was already on his feet when Boone entered.

"Glad you could make it," he said, leaning in to claim a kiss. Down the corridor, the courier insisted management charge her own account for the room, across the Strip Veronica wrinkled her face, already regretting agreeing to match Cass shot for shot, and in the Bon Vivant suite, Boone's smile could have lit the Mojave.

 

 

 


End file.
